


i want you (in every way possible)

by nutm3g



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Hurt, M/M, mentions of Alfred and his badass reflexes, romance and sappy gay stuff in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6320125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutm3g/pseuds/nutm3g
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I really like you." </p><p>"Yeah. I really like you, too."</p>
            </blockquote>





	i want you (in every way possible)

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime after Jason and Tim start fucking around, yknow, when they start to actually develop feelings like most people do.

Tim Drake is…

Well, he’s a work of art, with long and dark hair that just barely touches the tops of his shoulders, locks begging to be _yanked_ when he’s getting fucked hard into the mattress or giving head; with glistening blues for eyes that anyone could drown in if they stared long enough, and these perfect lips that practically beckon to be lavished in kisses of all kinds.

He’s thin but not too thin, just the right amount of muscular for his body frame, nimble and quick and-

“You’re not supposed to be down here.”

A fucking pain in the ass.

Jason swivels around in the big boss chair he’s currently lounging in to face Tim, a sneer present on his lips when the younger Robin comes into view, despite how giddy he is to see him.

(Giddy, or just sexually frustrated and needing to vent? He isn’t _currently_ hard, so that must be saying something.)

“I have business with B,” he replies simply, crossing a leg over the other to accentuate the fact that he’s _not_ leaving.

“Business that I’m sure could wait until he actually gets here. How did you even manage breaking in? Bruce tightened the security around here, you shouldn’t have been able to..” Tim’s words drift off, a look of uncomfortable confusion crossing his face for a split second before he catches himself.

Jason has the urge to be a smartass and demand to know why Tim would _ever_ assume he’d break in but, well, his reputation is on the line.

“You think I can’t hack on my own?” Jason puts a hand to his chest and feigns a look of hurt, then snorts. “I’m no Oracle, but I know my way around.”

Tim doesn’t look the least bit impressed, which is fine. It’s to be expected with a little prude like him. Not that he’s so.. snobbish around anyone else. Just Jason. But it’s cute sometimes, so Jason lets it slide.

“Whatever,” Tim say even though he’s smiling just a little, waving a hand as he turns to leave, “Just don’t break anything or Alfred will come down here with a taser.”

Alfred with a taser… That shouldn’t be as funny as it sounds. For an old man, Alfred’s pretty good with weapons. One time he caught Jason sneaking around the manor and, well, Jason’s never been so thankful for quick reflexes on an old man.

“Why don’t you wait with me?” Jason calls out after him, hands itching to pop open the buttons of his jeans and get Tim down on his knees in front of him and-

“Yeah, uh,” Tim draws out, without even bothering to turn his head completely to look at Jason, “Bruce…”

Jason raises an eyebrow and asks, “Bruce? Bruce what? Is he here already? Man, don’t tell me my senses are going to shit, because-”

“Bruce doesn’t think we should be doing this anymore,” is what Tim cuts him off with, and Jason’s mouth flies shut faster than he’d intended it to.

Oh. So that’s why Tim isn’t looking at him. It… It almost hurts. Almost.

“He knows about..” _About us._ “He knows what we’ve been doing, and he doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

Tim’s only got his head turned enough for Jason to catch him biting at his lip like he’s trying to keep something in, and it makes his stomach churn so badly he feels like he’s gonna be sick. Which, in turn, only makes him feel worse because he should not be so upset that Daddy Bat is practically forbidding them from being near each other.

“Oh.” Is all Jason can muster up.

In retrospect, he should have seen this coming. Really, he’s no good for anyone. He knows that, _Bruce_ knows that (and from personal experience, too.).

Tim would be much better off with Barbara or Steph or, hell, even Dick would be better for him than Jason fucking Todd.

The thought shouldn’t be so bitter, but it is, and Jason’s got this awful taste in his mouth now - like really bad cough medicine or _bile._

He’s actually _hurt,_ but he’s not gonna let it show.

“Whatever,” Jason says, adding a low snort for good measure and turning his gaze to the floor and the glow cast over it from the computer screens, the jagged walls, anywhere but Tim. “It’s not like we were a thing.”

It’s Jason’s turn to face himself away now, so he does, and swivels the chair around to stare at the larger of the screens in front of him.

“Jason-” Tim begins and, fuck, he almost sounds _sad._ “We..”

“Nope, don’t say a word, baby bird,” Jason snaps from his seat, “I’m no good for you anyway. Find yourself a nice girl like everyone else wants you to.” So much for trying to not sound upset.

Faintly, he hears the softest of sighs, accompanied by footsteps that don’t sound until after a hesitant moment passes.

Jason’s alone now, biting so hard into his lower lip that he tastes blood, and doesn’t stop until he has to lick it clean.

Bruce shows up later on, but Jason doesn’t know how much later because he’s been staring at nothing the entire time.

Jason rises from the seat before Bruce even gets the chance to order him out of it, grumbling a sharp “You just have to ruin everything, don’t you?” before he’s exiting the cave. Turns out business isn’t all that important when you’re borderline heartbroken.

* * *

The night air is cold against the barren skin of his face, but it’s welcome. Though it’s been an hour, or two, or three, Jason feels way too heated to be doing anything else but dangle his legs off the edge of some rooftop in Chinatown, watch all the cars below speed by while he sucks down half a pack of smokes. Well, maybe not half, but he’s not paying attention to that.

He’s probably onto his second or third cigarette, fumbling with the lighter before-

“Those things are gonna kill you.”

\- before Tim’s voice greets him like little chimes.

He should be angry, because he’s always angry, or uncaring or, hell, _anything_ but content right now.

But he finally gets the lighter going and sucks on the filter of his cigarette until it lights, then blows out a long cloud of smoke and replies, “Already died once. I figure the second time won’t be as bad.” That’s a lie. Jason, in fact, would rather never face death again but, hey, he’s gotta keep up that smartass exterior somehow; lest everyone know how broken he is on the inside. (He’s pretty sure everyone knows that already.)

Tim doesn’t move. Jason does. He pushes himself up from the rooftop’s edge on both palms, cigarette held in place between teeth while he strolls on over to Tim before asking, “What are you doing here. Shouldn’t you be off helping someone with.. Something.”

Tim smiles just barely before he’s Batman serious again, clears his throat quietly and flickers his gaze between Jason’s eyes and lips. Maybe he’s looking at the cigarette. Maybe he’s dying for a kiss.

“I, uh.. No one needed anything, so.”

Jason arches a brow. “So? So you came to me as a last-minute resort. Jeez, Timmy, I’m hurt.”

Tim laughs a little and, _god,_ it’s nice to hear him laugh. Butterflies are spurring up a storm in Jason’s stomach. That shouldn’t be normal for _friends with benefits,_ but. It’s only natural, right?

They’re all quiet again. Jason figures it’s a calm-before-the-storm kinda thing, which turns out to be half-true when Tim lifts his eyes to gaze at Jason, parts those pretty lips like he’s trying to hard to say something, to _confess._

“I don’t want to stop,” he finally admits meekly, quietly, continuing before Jason gets the chance to open his mouth with “Us, I mean.”

Us.

_Us._

Tim says it like they’re actually a couple. And for once, Jason doesn’t feel so sick to his stomach.

Jason drops the cigarette to the ground, snubs it out with the toe of his boot and curls his hands around Tim’s thin hips to draw him in a little closer.

“Well, well, baby bird,” he murmurs with the subtlest hint of endearment in his tone, “all you had to do was say so.” Then he leans in and noses along the lining of Tim’s jaw, retracing his steps with lips now instead and pressing kiss after kiss against the warm, smooth skin.

He hears Tim say something like “I really like you”, and his heart fucking flutters in his chest. God, what is he getting himself into? What if Bruce is right and this is all a mistake, what if he dies again or _Tim_ fucking dies _because_ of him or-

“Yeah. I really like you, too.”

Sometimes, risks aside, you have to take a chance.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Tim mumbles against the lips insistently pressing to his, though he’s kissing back, sliding his hands up Jason’s broad chest to press there like he’s going to push Jason away and instead curling his fingers in the fabric of his shirt to keep him still. “But I’m getting to that point in my life that-”

“You need to start making your own damn choices,” Jason all but growls lowly, squeezing Tim’s hips and tugging him so that their bodies are pressed together snugly.

“Yeah,” Tim replies, sounding breathless and dazed and high off of Jason’s lips, “Exactly.” He brings his hands up to tangle his fingers in Jason’s hair, kisses him hard until Jason’s lips ache, until they’re both breathless, until the feeling of nausea is gone and everything…

Bruce be damned, everything feels _right._

  



End file.
